Natural
by Skylark Evanson
Summary: He's a natural. He was born to perform. It's so obvious.


**A/N: Just another one of those things that didn't get covered in "Performance" that I had to touch on. Because none of them are performers. Someone had to show them the ropes.**

**Note: You really need to know the codenames in "Performance". Dane: Red Arrow. Dean: Superboy. Artemis: Diane. M'gann: Dawn. Robin: Dan. Don't forget it. You'll get confused.**

**Disclaimer: Young Justice belongs to DC Comics**

* * *

**Natural**

He's a natural, and it's painfully obvious. He's a performer at heart, they can tell just by the way he carries himself and how he embraces the crowds and the spotlight.

They just know that he's a performer, and since he's soaking it up now like a starving man, he hasn't had the limelight in a while and misses it dearly.

He's a natural. He was born to perform. It's so obvious.

* * *

"Dane, Diane," he barks out, "you two need to smile more." His orders are strict and to be followed to a T; Robin has no tolerance for stupidity. "I know it's hard for you especially, Dane, but toughen up and get it right."

"Dane" glares at the little birdbrain and almost spits out a threat until a pair of clowns walk by and he knows he can't without arousing suspicion. "Why don't you bark at Diane?" he retaliates darkly. "I don't see her smiling."

"She also doesn't scowl."

His features become warped with a grimace.

"Yeah, hey, Dane? That's exactly what I _don't _want you to do." A cackle even rings out, and he shoots a victorious look to his brother-in-arms before turning to tend to Artemis's obvious deficiencies. "And Diane, you need to stand up straighter." When she'd done so, he added on, "Smile. Make sure your hair stays out of your face."

Roy couldn't stop the grin from creeping across his face; finally, Artemis was getting chewed out for slipping up. He liked it.

"Yeah Dane, just like that. But try to smile for different reasons other than my criticizing Diane."

The smirk faded just as fast.

"And guys," finished the Boy Wonder, "please don't miss your cue. Dawn and I don't want to be Swiss cheese, alright?"

The two shared a look behind his back. It was painfully obvious: he was a professional, a perfectionist. This was his realm and the performance was his biggest concern. He couldn't get past that.

And they knew.

* * *

"Dean, come on, the show's about to start."

Conner knows his barrels are already out in the center of the ring, and he's just pulling on his vest at the last second. "I'm coming, _Dan_." His cerulean glare is irritated and bored to say the least.

"Well, you should've been ready five minutes ago. We're on in two." He is already moving to the tent's massive open flap, his aim to get to the big top itself as soon as possible and get everyone in positions about twenty seconds early so that Jack didn't need to introduce them late. After all, it's just their second night, and they need to be ready to go so they don't get fired before they can catch the crook. "Come on."

To Conner, it sounds like Robin knows the schedule like the back of his hand. He rattles it off so naturally, without a second thought, without double checking...

Robin calls from the tent's open flap, voice a bit sharp. "Everyone else is already there! Let's go!" And the flap slaps shut as the young boy abandons his friend for the show, bolting for his post after ducking into the ring and heading for the pole that would carry him to his place on the stage.

"Dean" is no fool, nor can he ever be called slow. He's there just in time, tossing barrels while Mr. Haly introduced them, smiling just like Robin had told him to.

And it's so obvious this place is like a second home to him. He knows the schedule, the routine, the whole deal. Robin knows it all; this is his place in the world. Conner can tell.

* * *

"Can't we do four backflips?"

Behind the mask, she sees his eyes widen. "No, that's a signature move. Can't be done." Because he has to protect his assets. There was only one group in the world anywhere near capable of doing it. Was. "Quadruple backflip is a no go, can't do it."

"But with my abilities and your skills-"

"No, Dawn." His voice is hard as steel. "It's someone else's move. _We can't do it_."

She'd seen him do it plenty of times before. Whenever he was running around in the gym, she would silently watch him bounce off the walls (literally) and act like a child. He's capable of doing it, and she knows.

And as far as "Dawn" can tell, there's no patent on a quadruple backflip.

"Whose move is it?" she questions before telepathically pulling the trapeze towards them when she knows no one's looking.

"The Flying Graysons."

She knows. Because he says it smoothly, calmly, quietly. And he takes the trapeze bar before she can say another word and swings out into the open air, flipping to the other side gracefully, effortlessly.

M'gann knows.

* * *

The final piece of the puzzle is when they see him up on the trapeze when the show actually starts. When Haly calls out his name, the others are quick to watch and judge, noticing his instant smile and his perfectly straight back and the way he waves so naturally.

And when he takes his leave from the platform, soaring out into the open air, he seems… at peace. "Dane" and "Diane" notice it right away, as "Dean" can see very little of it all.

Despite being sick, despite being desperate to complete the mission, despite everything, Robin's still staying calm. _Whelmed_, even. And he can "manage" being sick. Because the show must go on. He knows how to make it in show business. He knows how to do it all.

He's a true performer, and it's so obvious. He's a natural.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry it was broken up into fragments, but anything too long would be boring and drawn out. So, review?**

**~Sky**


End file.
